#MeToo: In Memory of Her
By Quardricos Bernard Driskell, Columnist
I heard the story of Recy Taylor somewhere between my high school and undergraduate years, a decade and a half or more ago now. Like too many tales of outrage and tragedy sublimated by distractions of our collective awareness, trivial or great, it wasn’t until January of this year that the story of Taylor’s rape was catapulted into the wider national consciousness when Oprah Winfrey mentioned her during her Golden Globes’ acceptance speech.
During Women’s History Month, I had the opportunity to view The Rape of Recy Taylor by Nancy Burski at the National Museum of African American History and Culture. Robert Corbitt, Taylor’s younger brother, was the featured participant in the conversation held after the viewing. Taylor raised Corbitt, along with five other brothers and sisters, when their mother died. They were extremely close and he has been a compelling advocate in telling his sister’s story.
As I sat there listening, I thought of how those six white men, who admitted to the rape, never really saw Taylor since to their minds Black women were not human beings to be seen or heard. Their bodies had never been, nor need ever be, their own in the focus of such distorted mindsets. The images too often conveyed in film, art, and the varied new age media projections of the American psyche perpetuate and even propagate, an ideology of essential inferiority that is coupled with sinister logic. This is to the habits of fetishism and sexist objectification that the black body, especially the black female body, has been stamped. Through the layered matrices of historic oppression—from the ships of the Transatlantic slave trade, the brutal rapes visited by the plantation masters, and the exploitations used to get cotton fields sharecropped to the legalistic/moralistic cynicisms of Jim Crow—the black woman’s body, non-consensually, was never judged to be her own. Thus, could those six men freely admit to what they did to Taylor with no fear of repercussions to suffer or legal recourse to be marshaled to prosecute the violation.
Rape is a universal suffering that all categories of women (and some men) the world over have endured and, in context of this country, most especially Black women. It is no coincidence that this ‘#MeToo’ moment has caused prominent and powerful men in the academy, journalism, public office, and entertainment to fall from grace. Sexual harassment, rape, and any inappropriate behavior are never really about the sex but about the sadistic need for men to be titillated by the exercise of their endowment of perceived power.
In the black church, 98.9% of the work is done by women though mostly men sit in titular leadership and control. Yet, every major movement in this country has witnessed the efforts of Black women at the forefront, including the civil rights movement. Examples include Ida B. Wells, who was a forerunner to Rosa Parks, and Fannie Lou Hamer. Yet, the men most often were the ones out front bathing in high profile.
In our present day, too many complicit black male preachers are afraid to specifically say anything against the exploitation of women and girls. By our silences in the pulpits, and other venues and emotional disconnection, we imply that blaming, teasing, shaming, taunting, bullying, belittling her is okay. By our silence, we preach and say—psychologically—that humiliating, torturing, confusing, controlling, and changing her is okay. By our silence, we preach and say that—physically abusing—beating, kicking, slapping, pinching, and perhaps even killing—her is okay. By our silence, we preach and say that unsolicited texting, sexting, photographing, and recording her is okay. By our silence, we preach and say that culturally, by tradition and honor, it is okay—perhaps preordained—for her not to be allowed to preach and hold any real position of leadership in the church outside of an administrative office. By our silence, we preach and say—economically—that creating debt in her name, and refusing healthcare and entrance into a male-dominated profession is okay. By our silence, we preach and say—spiritually –that turning scared text into texts of terror and androcentric interpretations is okay.
Therefore, to be faithful to our callings, we must no longer keep silent, promote, or tolerate the continued silencing of the victims. We must say, preach, and proclaim with her, for her, in praise of her, and—as Mark 14:9 says—in memory of her. Thanks to a real and living God, who dares to send forth to us Black prophets to speak of Her true will and act on its behalf, especially in the form of brave Black women.
The Rev. Quardricos Bernard Driskell is a graduate of Morehouse College and Harvard Divinity School. He has 10 years of federal lobbying and ministerial experience and serves as an adjunct professor at the George Washington University Graduate School of Political Management. Follow him on Twitter @q_driskell4.
